


Joyride

by pasiphile



Series: These Violent Delights Outtakes and Prompts [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1281682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasiphile/pseuds/pasiphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for prompt: "I you ever fancy it, I'd quite appreciate reading about Seb fucking Jim over the hood of a car."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joyride

“ _Ooph_ ,” Jim gasps. His stomach is pressed against metal cold enough he can feel it through his coat and jacket and shirt, and his hands hurt from where he scraped them against the wall earlier.

“Shut it,” Sebastian hisses, tugging eagerly at Jim’s trousers.

Jim pushes himself up onto his hands and looks over his shoulder. The parking lot is shadowed, dark, except for the occasional stretches of harsh light from the streetlights. Sebastian’s face is shadow-filled, hardly recognisable – he looks like a medieval demon, only his eyes and teeth clearly visible.

Jim shivers and turns back. “Hurry, then,” he hisses.

“Lube,” Sebastian mutters behind him. “Lube, lube,  _fucking_ lu- aha.”

The air is  _freezing_ on his bare arse, and he can’t shake the image of how this must look to a casual bystander – trousers around his ankles and his pale arse in the air, Sebastian fumbling with condoms and packets of lube. It’s seedy and filthy and  _wrong_ , and glorious because of it all.

Sebastian gropes Jim’s arse. His fingers are freezing as well, almost colder than the air even though he had been wearing gloves.

“Hurry,” Jim says again, his teeth chattering. It says something about the extent of his  _need_ that even the sub-zero temperatures and the cold metal of the car don’t really affect his hard-on. He  _wants_ , too deep to wait until they get home, enough to even make him risk getting caught.

And Sebastian, as ever, is more than willing.

Fingers press inside of him, stretching him open. After all this time together they’ve got this down to an art; they both know the exact minimum of time and effort needed to make the sex just comfortable enough to bear.

So of course it still burns when Sebastian’s cock presses inside of him, but right now it’s a good kind of burn, a delicious contrast to the cold surrounding Jim. And then there’s Sebastian, the bottom of his coat brushing Jim’s bare legs, his body heat like a furnace against Jim’s frozen skin.

He’s starting to shiver with the cold. He doesn’t care. “Go on, Seb,” he says, grinning. “Fuck me.”

He braces himself on the hood of the car, head dropped forwards, as Sebastian adjust himself, grabs Jim’s hips. And then he moves, fucking Jim hard and quick, making the car rock with their movements, suspension squeaking. Jim has to fight the sudden urge to laugh. Fucking like teenagers, like a cheap whore not even bothering with a hotel for her cheapskate client. It’s  _perfect_.

Sebastian’s hand reaches around and presses against his stomach, shockingly cold, but still Jim stays almost painfully hard. He’s shaking, Seb, he won’t last long now. He’s a private person generally, the thrill of the potential exhibitionism must be getting to him.

And, true enough, not that long after he shakes and stops moving with a grunt.

“That’ll be twenty quid,” Jim whispers, leering.

Sebastian huffs a laugh. “You should have asked me to pay upfront,  _love_.”

Jim looks over his shoulder. He’s still a shadow-creature, Seb, his breath making little cloud of steam in the dark. Jim grins, knowing exactly how it makes him look, shadowy except for that white slash of teeth. “How much for a blowjob?” he asks. They’re close enough that their respective little clouds of breath-steam mingle together.

Seb pulls out with another grunt and goes down to his knees, tugging at Jim’s hip, turning him around. Jim leans backwards, half sitting on the car, hands on the hood. This time the cold does have its effect, he can feel himself start to wilt –

And then Sebastian’s mouth closes around him and it feels like he dipped his cock in  _lava_. He gasps and throws his head back, hips jerking helplessly.

He looks down. It’s too dark, he can see nothing of Seb, but he can  _feel_ , the wet drag of his tongue and his hands on Jim’s hips. Jim reaches down, tangles his fingers in Seb’s hair and pushes in deep. Seb swallows around him without missing a beat – an  _art_ , a dance, so familiar he doesn’t even need to think about it; it feels instinctive.

Sebastian pulls off again, licking at the head of Jim’s cock. The wet skin above comes suddenly into contact with the cold air again and it feels like it’s going to give him frostbite, and wouldn’t  _that_ be an awkward visit to A&E?

Something wet and cold touches his face. He blinks, surprised – it’s snowing. Another snowflake drifts down gently onto his cock. Jim hisses and pulls Sebastian deeper again, a wet soft  _heat,_  the perfect opposite of everything outside.

A swallow. Another swipe of tongue, a gentle scrape of teeth. Jim’s fingers go tight in Sebastian’s hair and he starts rocking forwards, fucking Sebastian's mouth, the car once again bobbing along, squeaking.

He comes with a curse, a little puff of steam in the air. His thighs are trembling – with the cold, with the effort – and snow is melting in his hair, in his neck.

He pulls his hands back. Seb tugs Jim’s underwear and trousers back up, tucking him neatly back. He’s still cold, though, even through the post-coital afterglow.

Seb catches his wrists and pulls him away from the car. “Come on,” he says, still soft. “Home. Hot bath. You’re going to get pneumonia like this.”

Jim lets himself be dragged along, back to their car. They briefly pass underneath a patch of light, just bright enough to catch the security camera still pointed at where they had been standing earlier. Jim gives it a wave. “Have fun rubbing one out to  _that_ , Iceman,” Jim says softly.

Seb tugs at his wrist again and he follows, footsteps crunching in the snow.


End file.
